


The One Where Merlin Polishes Arthur's Sword

by Australis_Reynolds



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Crack, Getting Together, Innuendo, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Oblivious Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 13:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11853018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Australis_Reynolds/pseuds/Australis_Reynolds
Summary: Wherein Merlin is not that subtle and Arthur is not that perceptive, but they work it out in the end.





	The One Where Merlin Polishes Arthur's Sword

In retrospect, it was a little obvious that Merlin was a sorcerer.

Firstly, there was the bloody neckerchief. It was a well-known fact that sorcerers had no fashion sense. It was one of the many reasons why they needed to be outlawed, in Arthur’s opinion. Sure, they were powerful, treacherous, and untrustworthy, but they were, above all else, an eyesore. And Arthur had never seen a greater eyesore than that stupid neckerchief, covering up Merlin’s neck. As if it had the right!

There had been a few signs beyond that. There was, for instance, the time that Arthur had walked into Merlin’s bedchambers and seen everything floating. He’d been a bit puzzled at the sight, especially when he’d seen his armour polishing itself, but he’d quickly refocused on the task at hand: berating his manservant for having neglected to polish his sword that morning.

Arthur had a fine sword – longer and broader than average, and he was skilled with it, as well. Being such an exceptionally well-shaped tool, Arthur thought it was a shame for even a day to go by that Merlin did not polish it from shaft to tip. When the prince had unsheathed it for training that morning, he’d been irate to see that Merlin had grown negligent in his service to his master. Honestly, though he’d never admit it, Merlin was the only reason he could get out of bed in the mornings.

“Merlin!” he thundered.

Merlin leapt out of his bed and everything in the room clattered to the floor.

“What on earth are you doing?” Arthur demanded.

“Arthur,” Merlin began.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” he said as his manservant’s face paled. “I will not tolerate this behaviour in the castle. Are you happy, now that you’ve skived off work?”

He whipped out his sword and shoved it in Merlin’s face. The manservant went completely still.

“Arthur,” he said very quietly. “I can explain. Everything that I’ve done has been for you.”

“Well, the damage is already done, isn’t it?” Merlin looked at him with big, sad eyes. “I already had to train with my knights using this,” Arthur said, brandishing his sword. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it was?”

Merlin burst out laughing.

“Do you get your jollies by making sure that my men know I can’t get my own servant to yield to me?”

“No, sire,” Merlin said with a smile too wide for his face.

“Well, it isn’t going to polish itself,” Arthur said, putting his tool into his servant’s waiting hands. “And for your impertinence, _Mer_ lin, you can do it with your tongue.”

“That’s – disgusting,” he said, looking at Arthur’s sword.

“Hop to it,” he said, and did not leave his wayward servant’s bedchamber until Merlin had polished the sword to Arthur’s satisfaction.

…

Then there was the Bathwater Incident, as Arthur thought of it. Merlin had been so slow in fetching the water that it had been glacial by the time Arthur got in it.

“Merlin! What’s the meaning of this?”

“What’s the meaning of what, sire?” Merlin questioned with an unconvincing expression of innocence.

“My water! It’s unbearably cold!”

“I’m sorry. I’ll heat it back up for you,” he said with a daft smile.

“You’re right you will!” Arthur exclaimed, rising from the tub and crossing to his bed. He slipped under the covers, then paused. “Merlin, you have no idea what you put me through every day.”

“If I may say so, Arthur, it can’t be _that_ bad.”

“‘Can’t be that bad?’ Is that right? Well, why don’t you get in it yourself, then?” he shouted.

Merlin looked at the bath warily, then complied. He started by removing that hideous neckerchief and shrugging out of his jacket. Arthur looked on with rapt attention as his manservant stripped himself of his remaining clothing. It was only as Merlin climbed into the bath that Arthur registered that the water was now steaming.

The prince frowned. That couldn’t be right. Only moments ago, the water had been frigid. Surely, it couldn’t have gotten so hot just from caressing the man’s pale, silky skin and enveloping his lithe, young body. It certainly wouldn’t have gotten _him_ that hot. Merlin flashed him a cheeky smirk. _There’s certainly something queer going on here_ , Arthur thought, staring at his servant’s wet, naked frame.

…

Of course, Arthur could never forget a certain vital clue he’d discovered merely by chance. He’d spent much of the day teasing Merlin, one of his favourite pastimes. Arthur had ended the conversation with a particularly pointed remark about the manservant’s non-existent romantic life.

“Believe me, Arthur,” Merlin had fumed, irrationally angry, “I’ve never wanted for company.” Then he’d stormed out of the room.

Arthur had been troubled by the incident – Merlin couldn’t be sharing his bed with someone, could he? That would be outrageously unfair to Arthur! As his servant, Merlin’s every thought should be of Arthur’s pleasure. Didn’t he deserve to have his servant be utterly devoted to him, after all?

And so Arthur had found himself hiding outside Merlin’s room every night for a week, waiting to see where he went. Finally, on Saturday, he’d seen Merlin leave his room, looking as if he did not wish to be followed. Arthur tracked him carefully, as he would a hart, until they arrived deep underneath Camelot.

The prince nearly froze with fear when he saw the dragon.

“We meet again, young warlock,” the beast said. “What is it that you seek?”

“It’s Arthur,” the servant replied. “He’s a giant prick who does not respect me! How can we be two sides of the same coin when he never sees me as anything but his servant?”

“Alas, young warlock,” the dragon intoned, “you must seek your destiny for yourself. Your fate is deeply entangled with that of the Once and Future King. You are inseparable.”

“He hates me!” Merlin howled.

Arthur couldn’t understand why his breath was catching in his throat. His manservant was a girl – he already knew that. There was no reason for the ache that started in his chest as he listened to Merlin describe all the ways that his master degraded him.

The dragon sighed. “You are destined to do great things together. He shall be a great king and you, young warlock, shall use your magical gifts to aid him in any way possible. This is what must be.”

Arthur crept away before he could hear Merlin’s reply, and then returned to his chambers with a heavy heart. Why should a talking dragon beneath the castle call Merlin a young warlock? More confusingly still, why should Arthur be bothered to have hurt the feelings of a servant?

…

There was one final incident that cemented it in Arthur’s mind. He was sitting at his desk, studying military strategy while Merlin cleaned his room. At one point, he noticed the younger man looking at him nervously. Then, Merlin said something in a language that Arthur did not recognize and the brush began scrubbing the floor by itself.

The prince stared at the brush in bewilderment. He wanted to reprimand his servant, to order him to do his work properly. Normally, he would never miss an opportunity to order Merlin to get on all fours and put his back into it. Today was different, though. Today was the morning after he’d followed Merlin to the dragon’s lair. He couldn’t deny that knowing he’d hurt Merlin’s feelings upset him.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Merlin, would you come here? There’s something I’d rather like to discuss with you.”

Merlin came to stand in front of him. “I’ll do whatever you need, Arthur,” he whispered, kneeling down.

“Merlin,” he said, liking the way it rolled off his tongue. “I think that the time has come for you to give me some answers. Truthfully, I should have asked you the moment you woke me this morning. Merlin – I’m not sure I know how to begin.” He leaned forward to caress the young man’s cheek, then drew breath.

“WHY IS THERE A GIANT BLEEDING DRAGON UNDER THE CASTLE?”

…

 _Yes, the signs were present all along_ , Arthur mused that night as he lay face down in bed. With all their secrets out in the open, there was nothing else between him and Merlin. _Although, perhaps one final barrier remains_ , he thought, turning over his shoulder to eye his lover’s breeches. But it was easily surmountable. And, being surmounted, the more enjoyable mounting could begin.


End file.
